


Nate and Maggie—The First Love Job

by crayonbreakygal



Category: Leverage
Genre: Drama, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2016-09-30
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:40:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crayonbreakygal/pseuds/crayonbreakygal
Summary: Nate and Maggie meet for the first time. Takes place prequel through The Zanzibar Marketplace Job, season two.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This turned out to be a lot longer than I had anticipated. It's always been hinted that Nate and Maggie worked together for a while. I wanted to show that, how they met, what could have happened, why it seemed like they fit well together. And the fact that Nate could be an ass sometimes. If I did a timeline correctly, and mind you, it was difficult because we don't know exactly how long they were married, I figured out that they met anywhere from 1991 through 1994. The first show takes place in 2008, Nate's son had been dead for two years. He was eight when he passed away, so he was born approximately 1998 or so. I'm guessing they were married for a few years before Sam was born. If anyone else knows about the timeline, please feel free to tell me. So there's no cell phones, no electronics like we have today. This was fun to write. Enjoy!

Nate and Maggie—The First Love Job

Takes place prequel to The Zanzibar Marketplace Job, season two.

She was the most beautiful creature he’d ever seen, up until now that was.  The way her skirt clung to her hips, her calves that were shapely, her tight sweater, down to the wisps of blonde hair that had escaped her proper bun.  Why’d she have to walk in on their meeting?  His mind wandered way too much, just to look at her.

Sterling snapped his fingers directly in front of his face.

“Earth to Ford?”

“Oh, yeah.  You were saying?”

“No, you were saying.  The Bering case?”

“Umm, remind me?”

“There gonna make you get up and talk in, oh, say, five minutes.  What do you have on it? Did you figure out who tried to steal the painting?”

One of Nate’s first cases since he had been promoted and here he was going to blow it.  Jim Sterling was right.  He needed to focus, instead of daydreaming about the blonde that sat down in the back of the room. He glimpsed more thigh as she sat down, legs crossed now.

“Isn’t she a looker?” Sterling commented.

“Most certainly is attractive.”

He and Sterling sometimes competed for women, but not usually.  They were so unlike each other, it wasn’t even funny.  Nate was taller, skinnier, eyes were bluer.  Sterling sometimes was more charming, had that smirk he had perfected, and could certainly talk to the ladies with that damn accent that some of them seemed to love.  Nate just bumbled his way through, sometimes succeeding, but many times not.

“Probably some girl from the secretary pool. I’ve never seen her.”

Ian Blackpoole made his appearance finally, drawing Nate’s attention away from the blonde back to the front part of the room.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Let’s get this meeting started.  I have enough on my plate without sitting here and hearing all of you moan about your jobs.”

Nate went second, telling everyone about what he’d done to prevent Bering’s painting from being stolen.  Ian eyed him objectively, but then gave him a bit of a smile. Progress, Nate thought.  That was progress.

When Ian had agreed to promote him, it was with reservations.  Blackpoole didn’t like his attitude and had made it known that he didn’t.  Nate didn’t come from a law enforcement background, like many of his co-workers.  He didn’t even come from an insurance background.  He was hired straight out of college.  His first job was an assistant to some guy who took in claims.  The guy freakin’ typed claims.  Nate tended to be faster, more efficient and that was noticed right away.  He moved up to adjuster, then kept going until he ended up as an investigator.  Art theft was the cream of the crop.  Ian had made it a point of telling everyone he was doing Nate a favor, like he owned Nate.  Nate would show him though, that he could do the job better, faster than anyone there.

It took another hour to get through everyone.  God, were there that many cases open?  He could tell that a few of them he could have solved in no time flat.  But they weren’t his problem.  This one case was. 

“Before we go, I’d like to introduce our new art expert.  Maggie Collins will work closely with any of you that might need assistance. Alright, go away.  I want all these reports on my desk yesterday.”

A few groans were heard around the room, but everyone exited quickly and quietly.  Nate followed behind the new woman, Maggie, and watched as she slowly walked away, shaking the hand of another investigator.

“Nice view,” a voice came beside him.

Nate was startled that it was Ian Blackpoole.  The man had only talked to him a few times, if just to remind him of his place.

“Um,” Nate stumbled, knowing that he had to keep his mouth shut.

“Don’t worry.  One of the reasons I hired her.  Very nice indeed.”

Nate sighed as Ian walked away, knowing that he had to be careful of everything he said.  And the fact that he didn’t want Ian to have anything on him, including the fact that the lady not ten feet in front of him turned and smiled his way.  Nate ducked his head as soon as he’d seen her look towards him.  If Ian already had his claws in her, then she was off limits.

Ian Blackpoole was a notorious womanizer, if that term was still being used.  With sexual harassment lawsuits galore though, he’d tempered his attitude, if just slightly. 

“Mr. Ford,” Ms. Collins called to him as he turned away. “I need to talk to you.”

Oh shit, he thought.  She saw him staring.  How could he not stare?

Turning the corner, she caught up with him as he pressed the button on the elevator.

“Mr. Ford?” Maggie stuck out her hand to shake.  “Maggie Collins.  I need to ask you a few questions about Bering’s paintings.  I think there’s a problem with one of them.”

“Problem?” Oh great, just what he needed.  Some expert who really didn’t know what she was doing, attempting to do his job.

“Let’s go talk in your office.  The file?”

“In the office,” he pointed with his finger.

As he got into the elevator, he pressed his floor, trying not to look at her as he did.  She stood in profile, looking at the numbers as they fell.  Once the elevator stopped on his floor, he was able to breathe again.  She smelled so good, he didn’t want to start panting.  Leading the way, he shoved his door open, pushing papers around on his desk until he found the file he was looking for.

“How do you find anything in here?” she asked as she sat down in the one other chair in his office.

Nate’s office was tiny compared to most in his division.  He was the low man on the totem pole, so he didn’t even think he’d get one once he was promoted.  He did though, but no secretary. He had to do the filing himself.  Nate Ford hated filing with a vengeance. 

“I have a system.”

“Right. So, the Bering case.  I was going over some photos. One of the paintings is a forgery.”

“How do you know?  Do you have proof?”

Maggie pulled out another photo, of one of the paintings in Bering’s collection. 

“This artist usually did some interesting things so that everyone would know it belonged to him.  These all are exactly the same, except this one painting doesn’t have his signature swirl at the top left hand corner.  All his paintings have them. What makes this one different? I’d have to examine it in person to check.  I just didn’t want you blamed if it turns out it’s a fake.”

“He’s had this in his possession for years,” Nate told her, bending over so that he could take a closer look at what she was discussing.

“Well, unless we find a photo of the painting from years ago, I’m not sure we’ll be able to tell when it was switched.  It happens more often than you think.  A painting in one’s possession.  You think you know it well.  Someone does the switch with a very good reproduction. No one is the wiser until it goes for auction or is sold to a private person.  Ian wants me to review everyone’s cases, including this one.  It’s just not you, you know.  And you’re not the only one who has this problem.”

“Well, is it a problem? If it’s been in his possession for years, how are we to know?”

“Because we insure this one particular painting for two million dollars.  Sure, not as much as some of IYS’s clients, but still two million.  If it were to disappear or get stolen, then we’d have to pay in full.”

She was right. He knew the rules.  He also knew that some collectors did this, sold off the original and then had a forgery made, but never telling the insurance company what they’d done.  Then when or if it was stolen, they’d collect. Sometimes it was only a matter of when if the collector wanted a payout.

“That means going back to Italy.”

He’s just gotten back from there.

“Definitely means going to Italy.  Again for you.”

“Do you like to travel?”

“Oh, if I have to,” she grinned at him.

Oh, damn, she had dimples.  He swallowed tightly as he watched her smile back at him.  Her blue eyes sparkled, like he’d just told her a joke.

“Well, we should get cracking, Mr. Ford.”

“Oh, it’s Nate.  Call me Nate.  Makes me sound old when you call me Mr. Ford.”

“Sure.  Maggie,” she said as she stuck out her hand to shake again.

Her fingers were slender, soft to the touch. No ring.  He actually looked.  No ring.  Was today his lucky day?  Then he proceeded to dump the whole contents of the Bering file on the floor.

“I’ll go get the approvals, Nate, while you pick up the file.”

Nate just stared back at her.

“Oh, yeah.  Sorry about that.”

“No problem.  We need to coordinate schedules.  When is the earliest you can leave?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Eager. Tomorrow it is.”

Tomorrow? Did he just tell her tomorrow?  Dammit, and he hadn’t even unpacked yet from the trip home.  He’d have to do laundry and possibly other things he couldn’t think of right at that moment.  But he said tomorrow and didn’t want to contradict it.

He watched the sway of her hips as she walked down the hall.  Geez, she was just as gorgeous walking away as she was walking to him.  Jim Sterling’s timing was impeccable though, because he popped his head inside the door just as she turned the corner.

“You know, Nate. You’ve already lost.”

“Lost what? My mind for agreeing to travel tomorrow?  Possibly.”

He bent over to pick up the contents of the file.

“You can’t date her.  You can’t even fantasize about her. Company policy.  She’s in the same division now.  Remember?”

Remember what, he thought. It wasn’t like he read any of the memos they sent around. 

“A no dating policy in each division.”

“Fuck,” he whispered to himself.

“And the fact that Ian has his eye on her. Makes her dangerous. To your career, you dumbass. Stay away from her.”

“Oh, I will. Not a problem.”

“So says the guy who wanted to date that girl from accounting.  Only to find out she was Ian’s mistress.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Right? You keep telling yourself that. You were lucky that time that he didn’t find out.”

“I was lucky that Ian’s wife found out.  I never went anywhere with her.”

Sterling just smiled at that.  “Well, I did.”

Nate grimaced his way.  “Go away, asshole.”

“You know you love me.  Saved you a lot of time and heartache with that one.  She wasn’t good enough for you.”

“But obviously good enough for you.”

“No, just good enough, apparently.”

Nate shook his head at Jim’s inference. 

 

Nate’s dreams were laced with one blonde woman with a smile of an angel, so when the alarm buzzed, he slapped it until it shut off.  This was not going to be a good day.  He looked down to see that he’d woken up with a hard on because of the dream, or possibly because he hadn’t had sex in what seemed like forever.  He couldn’t remember exactly when.  Maybe it was six months ago?  He hadn’t had a steady girlfriend since college.  Five years and no steady girlfriend?  Five years of dating, one night stands?  Jesus, he needed to get a life. And how he’d have to go to confession just by thinking the word Jesus in relation to screwing.  Father Paul would be proud, and would probably laugh.  That was the problem of being good friends with a priest.  He could make fun of you while telling you what to do for penance. 

As he fixed his coffee for the day, he went over what he’d packed.  Blue tie, red tie, white shirts, gray suit, black suit, shoes, socks, underwear.  Oh shit, he’d forgotten underwear.  Now that would have been embarrassing.  He thought of the scenario in his head: Oh wait, Maggie.  I have to go in and buy some underwear because I forgot.  Of course, she could forget too.  He accidentally burned his hand with the coffee not watching what he was doing.  Does being klutzy around a beautiful woman hurt his cause?

Making it to the airport with time to spare, he went over all the files again, adding in several articles about art forgery. He wanted to be up to date regarding this subject, even though he knew some of what he’d encounter.  The fact that this was Maggie’s area of expertise fascinated him.  He’d have to ask her the specifics of her job, in addition to why she’d chosen it.  Just as he thought of a line of questioning, said woman walked down to the gate, small briefcase in her hand in addition to a cup of coffee. The pants that she wore now did nothing to detract of how attractive she was.  He hadn’t realized how tiny she really was, even though she was taller than the average woman.  He’d say she was around 5’7”, mostly legs though.  Her waist wasn’t all that wide. Her wrists were dainty almost, but he could see a bit of muscle in her arms.  She must go to some kind of gym.  Her breasts weren’t huge (oh god, why was he thinking of her that way), but filled out her short-sleeved top nicely.  It was silk. She wore a silk top.  In her arm she carried a sweater, probably for the flight if she was cold.  She wore sensible shoes, which was smart since it would take them ages to actually get to Italy from Los Angeles. She was classy, way too classy for the likes of an Irish guy from Boston.  Dammit, she was way out of his league.  Sterling was right. He needed to forget about her and be done with it. Only she was going to be spending the next week with him, since it was cheaper for them to fly on certain days.  It would take a day to get there and a day back.  Four days to check on the collection, since now that she found that discrepancy, she needed to check every single one.  Nate was there to back her up and report to Ian.  And since the collection was worth nearly twenty million dollars, they better do it right.

“Early I see,” Maggie called out as she spotted him.

“I wanted to get started on these files.”

“Smart man.”

As she set her cup down, he spotted the top of her lacy bra.  He looked away suddenly, just in case she saw her staring.  God, he really needed to get laid.  Maybe there’d be time in Italy? Getting drunk in a bar and taking someone up to his hotel room just might do the trick.  Then she’d be out of his mind, possibly for good.  Some dark-haired, dark-eyed Italian woman with long legs just might do the trick.

“Tired?”

“Huh?  Oh, no, well, just a little.”

“You closed your eyes there for a minute.  At least on the plane you’ll have some time to nap.”

“Yeah, nap.”

“So we have a direct to New York, then a direct to Italy.”

He was stunned that she’d managed to wrestle out two directs.  He never was able to do that.

“And if you ask, yes, I did manage to get us two direct flights.  Ian wants me back here by next week. Something about some gala he wants me to attend.”

And there it goes.  Maybe she didn’t know it yet, but Ian was on the prowl.  He’d conveniently forget to ask his wife to join him, take Maggie’s arm, show her around, impress her with what he knew, then by the time the night was done, she’d be hooked.  Ian was a charming man, with lots and lots of money.

“Have fun with that,” Nate said, with a little too much sarcasm.

“I hate those things.  Maybe I can get out of it.”

“Good luck.”

“Shit,” she mumbled under her breath.

He wanted to laugh at her swear word, but didn’t because then she would think he was a prude.  He wasn’t, at least in that sense of the word.  He could swear with the best of them.  Sterling was usually the recipient of those. 

He shared the files with her until it was time to board the plane.  Sharing the two seats on one side, he figured that he could get a bit of shut eye, but as he watched her doze off, he realized that it was going to be difficult at best to sleep while she was so close to him.  As she leaned closer to him, he almost froze up, but relaxed once he had a drink in him.

He awoke to the captain’s announcement that they were going to land shortly.  Something or someone was leaning against his shoulder, blonde wisps in his line of vision.  She was asleep against his shoulder.  He couldn’t move a muscle.  Maggie then put her hand on his arm. He had removed his jacket at one point early on, so he could feel the warmth through his shirt. The hand moved down his arm to his wrist. If she felt his pulse, she’d realize what she’d done. It was beating so rapidly at that point, he wondered if there was something wrong with him, other than being excited by this woman’s touch.  Pull yourself together, Nathan Ford.  She’s going to think you’re a fucking asshole if you don’t.  Goddamn it, more penance for that.

His sigh of resignation woke her up. Sitting up slowly, she turned to face him with embarrassment.

“Sorry.  I didn’t mean to fall asleep on your arm.  I was up too late last night.  Boyfriend trouble.”

Shit, shit and double shit. He should have realized that a woman like her would already be attached.

“Oh?” he asked.

“It’s nothing,” she smiled brightly.  A little too brightly if the clues were correct.

“He’s going to miss you?”

“Nope. Not entirely.”

She didn’t complete what it seemed like she was going to say. Instead she turned away from him.  Did he make her cry? 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“No prying.”

Once they changed planes, which was the concession she had made with the travel department, they both settled down again.  When the flight attendant came around for drink orders, Maggie ordered something strong. Nate shook his head slightly, wondering if whatever he’d said had made her want to drink.  He sometimes had that effect on women, or so he’d been told by several.  Driven to drink, his last two night stand had said.  Sure, she’d stuck it out for two nights. He didn’t do relationships.

Maggie struggled to open the small bottle of liquor until Nate gently took it from her hands and opened it for her.  She said her thanks and went back to mixing her drink.  He never ordered more than one drink on the plane because a) he’d have to pay out of his own pocket and they were damned expensive, b) alcohol at altitude made him loopy and c) they dehydrated him to the point where his jet lag was worse when he arrived.  So only one drink for him.  Not so much for Maggie because she ordered another quickly after finishing off the first.

He wondered if he should ask her what was up, but didn’t want to pry, just like she’d asked.

“Tell me something,” she started, “why are men such pigs?”

Shit.  Why wasn’t Sterling here? Then he could just point to prove what she was talking about.  Agreeing with her was probably the sane thing to do.

“You’re right.  Most of us are.  We are disgusting, gross, sometimes not nice.”

“You smell nice.”

Oh crap, she was now tipsy.

“Thanks,” his voice came out smaller than he had anticipated.

“Are you a nice man?  Because I just cannot for the life of me find a nice man. One that is loyal, trustworthy, one who wants to spend time with me, just me, not his friends who are assholes.  Are you that kind of man?  Do they exist?”

“Sure, they exist. You just haven’t found that one yet.  Or one that hasn’t matured.  The younger a man is, the more of an asshole he is.  Or he could stay that way forever.”

Nate could only think of his father for that statistic.  His father has stayed that way forever.

“So that means I should go for someone older?”

“No, not necessarily.  I’m not a great judge of character.  Tell me what it is you like.”

Oh boy, he was playing with fire on this.  Here she was drunk off her ass now and he was asking what she wanted in a man.

“He has to be loyal, affectionate, kind, sensitive.  When he looks at me, I only want him to look at me, not some bimbo across the way with the big tits.  I want him to be good with his hands, know how to kiss me.”

It was getting hot on the plane, or was it the fact that Maggie had leaned into him to tell him and only him what her thinking was.

“He has to be good in bed, of course.  Adventurous, worldly, can cook, because I cannot cook worth a damn. His smile needs to be real and big and there when he sees me.  He has to be tall, dark and handsome.”

Dammit, Nate thought. He did not fit most of the criteria.  He was loyal, he knew that.  Affectionate, kind and sensitive?  Not at all.  Probably why his first girlfriend had broken up with him.  He would, could look at her and only her. That went along with being loyal.  His Catholic sensibilities would not let him be anything but that.  Good with his hands? She’d be the judge of that.  He did have Susie King teach him how to kiss though, so that wasn’t a problem.  Good in bed?  How would he know?  Things happened, things came to the ultimate conclusion, everyone goes home happy.  Isn’t that enough?  He thought he was adventurous and worldly. Cooking?  His mother taught him how to cook omelets at one point. He had the crookedest smile he knew, so that was out.  Someone in the neighborhood even called it a smirk.  He was somewhat tall, not really dark because he could blush at a moment’s notice. Handsome? How the hell was he supposed to know that?

As he went through his mind her checklist, the flight attendant came through for more drink orders.  She stopped at his row and smiled down at him, lingering for just a moment longer as he gave her his order of juice.  Maggie waved her away, probably knowing she was at her limit.

“Oh god, did you see her?” Maggie whispered in his ear.  He shivered when she did this.  “Flirting with you.”

She wasn’t flirting with him.  Well, maybe she was. He didn’t know.

“Just doing her job.”

“Seriously doing her job?  Ha.”

With that, Maggie settled down in her seat and eventually drifted off to lean against him one more time.  He definitely didn’t get any more sleep for the rest of the flight.

Once they retrieved their bags, Nate hailed a cab to take them to their hotel.  It wasn’t the ritziest one in Florence, but it certainly was clean and safe.  Or at least that was his criteria.  He could see Maggie at one of those hotels where the rich played and stayed.

They put the two of them in separate rooms right next to each other, with connecting doors.  As he heard her move around, he got himself settled, waiting for her knock.  It never came.  Now that worried him.  He realized that jet lag was always a factor, but didn’t know how she traveled.  Lightly knocking on her door, she greeted him with a forced smile on her face.

Oh damn, she’d been crying.  Now what was he supposed to do?

“Um, we, uh, should start looking at the case. You alright?”

Dammit, he did not do emotions very well at all.  A crying woman was like a ticking time bomb. 

“I’m fine.  Just fine.  Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?”

“Bering?”

“Oh, yeah.  Let me get my stuff.”

Nate hailed a cab and instructed in Italian to the driver where they needed to go.  The guy laughed at him a bit, but understood.  He knew his Italian was not the best, but hey, it got the job done.  Then Maggie went and started talking to the guy fluently.  Well, didn’t that make him look like an ass?

“You’re cute, you know that?”

“Funny. Very funny.  Let’s just get through this first meeting.  I can tell you right now that Bering is not going to like what you have to say.”

And he didn’t, arguing with both he and Maggie until Nate suggested that his IYS contract might not be renewed. Then he gave access to both of them.  Maggie ordered around Bering’s staff, telling them how to remove the paintings so that she could examine each one of them carefully.  She had gotten through at least five of them when Nate noticed that it was dark outside. They’d worked the whole day, with only a short break for lunch.  With the jet lag and not much sleep, Nate was running on empty. 

“Maggie, time out.”

Maggie sighed, but turned to him and threw up her hands like she’d had enough also.

“Ten more. Two more days of this.  My brain is shutting down.”

He could see how drawn her face was, how tired she looked.  But she had a sparkle in her eyes, like she wanted to solve this, whether it proved that more of them were fake or not. She’d been very good going through each painting with him, piece by piece, testing everything she could, including materials that were used on the painting itself.  It was painstaking work.  Nate’s back cracked a little as he stood there while she cleaned up the mess they had made throughout the day.

“You’re a good assistant,” she told him as he hailed another cab to take them back to the hotel.

“I have a good teacher.”

“Thanks,” she told him as she stepped into the car, body brushing against his.

Even with how tired he was, he still heated up by her closeness. It had happened a few times during the day. When their hands accidentally touched, it would send shivers up and down his arm.  When she’d smile at him for something he’d say, he was sure his cheeks would turn bright pink.  He wondered that if she wasn’t just doing that to gage his reactions.

“Oh, we need food. I’m starving.”

With a limited budget for food, Nate suggested that they pick something near the hotel, if just so they didn’t have to travel far. Besides, his feet really were starting to hurt.  She, of course, still looked great except for the need for sleep.

The suggestion from the front desk at the hotel had them walking for a few blocks.  What had seemed to have been a whirlwind day was finally winding down.

“So, how many times have you been to Italy?” he finally asked as the two of them looked at the menu.

“I studied in Paris for a semester, then in Rome a semester.  I did work in Spain also. Not sure which I liked better.  How about you?”

“BS in Business Administration from UCLA.  That’s the extent of my travels, if you count moving from Boston to LA.  I’ve been to England, France, Italy, and Prague since I started working for IYS.”

“But you know some Italian.”

“Not as much as you do.  I know a smattering of Italian, French, Latin, which I am not eternally grateful about. I can pass in Russian, which is not something I love talking about because there were extenuating circumstances involved.”

“A girl?”

“A girl.  Whose parents spoke only Russian.  College romance. I learned it and then only used it once.  So I can speak it, although sometimes I think I’m insulting people as the words are coming out of my mouth.”

Maggie laughed at his joke. She actually laughed.  Most women just didn’t get him.

“You pick up things here and there.”

“Oh, I do.  I tend to pick up things that most people won’t or don’t.”

“Stick with me and we’ll see how much you pick up,” she encouraged him.

The wine arrived, making Nate look down at the table, anywhere but at Maggie.  It didn’t take much longer for their entrées to arrive.  Nate hadn’t realized how much he was starving and finished it quickly. Maggie took her time, savored the flavors.  Maybe that was the difference between the two of them. Nate wanted to barrel through life and figure out all its secrets.  Maggie wanted to savor all that life had to give and stay a while.

“Thinking big thoughts over there,” Maggie said as she took a drink of the wine.

“Always.  Always planning.”

“So, do you have a plan? Where you’re heading?”

“I wanted to graduate college.”

“I sort of thought that would be a lot of people’s dreams.”

“Not my father. Maybe my mother, but she really wanted me to go to seminary school.”

“What? You a priest?”

“Almost happened.”

“No girls?”

“No girls. And the fact that if you had an opinion on anything, well, that was not taken lightly.”

“So here you are now.”

“Here I am.  Graduate.  Find a good job, buy a nice house, find a beautiful wife, have kids.”

“All in that order?”

“Well, sometimes things happen out of order. That’s ok.”

“Mine was to triumph over the art world, sell my paintings, travel.  Be present.  This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

“You can still do that.”

“I don’t have the heart for rejection.  I can travel and have.  I don’t want to settle down.  I want adventure.”

“I want to spend at least ten days in my apartment without having to pack.”

“Goals.  We all have them,” Maggie agreed, holding up her wine glass.  “To whatever our goals are.  May they be plenty and work out for the two of us.”

“They will, Maggie. I’m sure they will.”

Looking at her in the light of the candles, she looked even more beautiful.  He stared for a little while until she looked away, breaking his concentration.

“You want kids?  Ugh. Not my cup of tea.”

“Yeah, I mean why not?”

“Have you ever taken care of an infant?  They’re not fun.”

“I have.  My mother helped run the day care in church. I seemed to always be running errands for her when I was younger.  And I could hold a baby while making a bottle. Got quite good at it.”

“I’ll say.  House, beautiful wife? How about adventure? Don’t you want to see the world?”

“I am seeing the world right now.  It’ll all come, eventually.”

“So not settling right now?”

“Not unless the right woman comes around.”

Maggie shook her head at him, like she couldn’t believe his goals were not enough.

“Don’t you want those things?”

“Maybe. I don’t know.  I don’t want to be like my mother.  I want to be different.”

“You can be.  Hell, you probably already are.  I wanted to be different from my father and I’ve already succeeded in that.”

“How’s that?”

“I didn’t go to prison.”

Oops, that slipped out, Nate thought.  Maggie’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh. I’m sorry.  I didn’t know.”

“Not many people do. If you could just keep it quiet.  It’s not something I usually tell anyone. Sterling knows.  I’m sure that Ian knows in his own way.  Probably why he thinks I’ll fail.”

Why was he telling her his secrets after only knowing her for days?  It wasn’t something he ever did, even for Sterling, who happened to be his best friend.

“Wait, Jim Sterling is your friend?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Oh, just interesting guy. Not what I could see as a friend to you.  You two are so different.”

“Different as night and day. He’s too straight forward. Sometimes I just want to punch that smug look off his face.  Then we go get drunk and it goes away.”

Maggie laughed again at what he said.  He was making progress and not embarrassing himself too much.

“You’re adorable, you know that?”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Good in this instance.  Let’s finish up. I’m exhausted.”

The next few days went as planned, with only the one painting possibly being a forgery. Bering did not take it well, even threatened to get the two of them fired, but Nate was finally able to talk him down, telling him they’d try to get to the bottom of what had happened.  It might never happen, but he’d try.

Nate and Maggie came back to IYS and reported to Ian that all was well except for the one painting. He was pleased with himself, taking credit for hiring Maggie so they could get to the bottom of cases like these. 

Before going home after a long day of meetings with Ian and looking at other potential cases, Nate decided to stick his head in Maggie’s office.  It had been nagging him that they’d gotten a little closer, but hadn’t even had a real date, work policy be damned.  If they were quiet about it, it could work.

“Maggie,” he started, “I was wondering, um, would you like coffee? I mean, tomorrow, would you like to do coffee, with me?”

“Nate, you’re sweet. You really are.  But no.”

She shattered his world, right then and there.  She was all about sharing in Italy, now nothing.

“Oh, oh, ok.  Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“Screwed up, didn’t you?” Sterling asked later.

“I didn’t screw up, asshole.  We hit it off in Italy. Now nothing.  Maybe she knows about the new policy.”

“Maybe she knows you’re a pathetic jerk who’s lonely.  Since when was your last date?”

“Fuck off, Sterling.”

“At least I’ve had dates in this century.”

He asked her out again, right after another case they were involved in together, just for coffee. She refused yet again. It started to become a game, he asking her out, she refusing politely.  He didn’t know what to do, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her.

As he drowned his sorrows in beer one Thursday night, he contemplated what he was doing wrong.  She said he was adorable, that he was funny.  Did he reveal too much? He never did that before with any girl.  He even didn’t tell his college girlfriend about his family. What made it seem safe that he could tell Maggie things he never told anyone else?”

Tapping on the bar with a top to a beer bottle, he watched the news, spacing out.

“This seat taken?” a beautiful woman asked as she attempted to sit down beside him.

“Oh, oh, no.  Go ahead.”

She was stunning, dark hair, dark eyes, pouty red lips. The total opposite of Maggie, that was for sure.

“You here with anyone?” she asked as she ordered a glass of wine.

“No. Just stopped here after work. You?”

“Same.”

Here he was, possibly getting hit on by a beautiful woman and he didn’t know what to say.

“You work near here? I mean, I’m not prying, it’s just I’ve never seen you in here before, and I was just wondering.”

“Oh, no.  Just had a meeting down the street. IYS.  They’re doing some work for the company I work for.  I was just delivering some stuff to them. Thought I’d stop in here.”

“Good.  It’s a nice bar.”

“Seems like it.  Well, I should probably go. Nice to meet you.”

Dammit, there he went again, not taking advantage to see if she was available.

“Wait.  Um, would you like another drink? I’m here and you’re here.”

“Sure.”

One drink turned into two, into three until they had to call a cab, taking them back to his place where she proceeded to strip him out of his clothes, fuck him until he couldn’t see straight and leave before the sun came up. 

 

“You really seem to pick ‘em, don’t you, Nate?” Sterling said as they walked down the hall.

“She was very inventive, to say the least.”

“Where’s the wining and dining?  The roses and the chocolate?”

“If I knew where to find someone like that, I’d not tell you.”

“I just want you to tell me where you find these kinds of women?  I could tell you were walking funny this morning.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

“Hilarious actually. Come on, stats.”

“What is it about you living vicariously through my one night stands?”

“I want to be you,” he told Nate, with sarcasm dripping.  “Built for speed, then?”

“Hence the walking funny.”

What they hadn’t seen was the fact that Maggie was on the other side of the door, coming into the conference room where they’d set up some files for the next case they were handling together.

“Oh, sorry.  Didn’t know you boys were in here?”

With a flourish, Maggie walked out.

“She heard,” Nate started.

“Oh, she probably heard.  You going to apologize or shall I?”

“No, I think I was the bigger ass here.  And you haven’t asked her out.”

“Yet.  Although after today, I might just.  Stats, Nate.”

Nate’s hands mimed some of her best attributes as he walked out to find Maggie to apologize.  He still needed to keep up with Sterling, if just to show him that he indeed was a guy.  What was he to do? She’d turned him down nine times, not that he was keeping score.  Was it because another woman actually found him attractive?

Popping into her office, she was standing over some photos of newly acquired paintings that needed to be evaluated.

“A word?” he asked Maggie as she looked down.

“Sure,” she replied hesitantly.

“I want to apologize. Jim and I were just joking around.  Friends?”

“Yeah, friends.”

He guessed he’d try one more time to see if there was any interest in him whatsoever from this woman. Her reaction to her overhearing had been a bit shocking because most women would have called them pigs and been done with it.

“Hey, listen, do you want to get coffee, tomorrow?” knowing this time he probably had blown it, so why not?

She looked up at him finally.  A look of determination should have been a warning to him, that he should tread lightly when it came to her. 

“Sure. What time?”

Did she just say yes?  So he goes and has a one night stand with a stranger, she overhears it, then decides to go out with him for coffee, when he’d been asking her for months, months of rejection?

“How about 5:30?” he stuttered out.

“Yes.”

Either he was the luckiest man in the world or was going to get his ass handed to him by Maggie.  He wasn’t quite sure which at that moment.

 

They met at a small coffee shop a few miles away, just in case there were prying eyes from work.  Nate didn’t want to give Ian any more ammunition to have him demoted or even fired.  He’d stayed off the man’s radar, and had even made points with him.  If he valued his job, he’d make it stay that way.

“So why’d you say yes?” he suddenly asked.

“I realized that I might be missing something good.  Does that sound corny?”

Something good? As in he was something good?

“Uh, no.  Not quite.  I’m embarrassed about you hearing Sterling and I talk.”

“Look Nate.  I know that you date.  I date too. Maybe it was time we actually dated each other.”

There were those dimples again as she smiled.

“Good, good.  So, how are things?  With work and you know whatever?”

“If you’re asking about the boyfriend, he’s now the ex-boyfriend.  We tried to fix things, but it just wasn’t working.  So here I am.  Thought it might be best to get back on the horse and try again.”

“I understand that, completely.”

They sat and talked for over two hours, sipping coffee, finally ordering sandwiches because they’d forgotten about dinner.

“This was fun, Nate.  We really should do it again.”

“How about Saturday?”

“Um, sure,” she hesitantly agreed.

“You won’t be sorry.”

“Just as long as there’s no commentary by Sterling on Monday, then ok.”

“Mum’s the word. He can be an ass sometimes.”

“Oh, no.  Not that he’s being an ass because I’m sure you can be too.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I eavesdropped.  We won’t talk about it again.”

As he led her to her car, he stopped her before she could get in.

“Still don’t understand why you agreed to this after I asked you out ten times.”

“Don’t overthink it.”

The gentle kiss shocked him because he wasn’t expecting her to touch him at all.  Her lips were just as soft as they looked.

“See you on Saturday.”

“Um, oh.  Yeah. Saturday.  7 work for you?”

“Perfect.”

 

Saturday couldn’t come around fast enough for him.  He’d made reservations at a nice, romantic restaurant that Jim had suggested. Who knew that Sterling could be romantic?  He bought her flowers.  Things were all set for the evening, until Ian called.

“Nate, I’m going to need for you to come in.”

He shouldn’t have answered the phone.

“I have an engagement.”

“You’ll have to cancel. Be here in one hour. It’s Bering.  He’s dead.”

“What can I do about that, sir?  I’m not sure why I’m…”

“He’s been murdered. And that damn painting that you and Collins said was a fake was wrapped around his neck. The rest of the paintings are now missing.  Be here in one hour.”

Shit, he thought.  What had they dug up?  Bering didn’t seem the kind of guy who would be involved with anything bad.  As he rang Maggie, he wondered if Ian had called her too.

Even before he could get anything out other than hello, she told him she knew, that Ian had called her.

“Listen, I will come get you.”

“Nate, why on earth would someone kill him?”

“Who knows?  A debt, the person who stole the painting in the first place?  Let’s just talk to Ian and see what he knows.  Bering was a friend of his.”

“Sorry about the date.”

“Just don’t tell Ian.”

“Oh, I won’t. I definitely will change before coming in.”

“Be there shortly.”

He showed up at her door with the flowers, if just to show her that he did care.

“Oh, Nate.  They’re lovely.  Maybe I can enjoy them later.”

Ushering him inside, she quickly put them in water.  She lived in a small cottage, beautiful flowers outside, vintage furniture all through the living area.  She had style and a lot more class than he could ever have. What was he doing?

 

“You two have to go and figure out what happened to his collection.”

Nate was kind of stunned that all Ian was worried about were the paintings.

“We’re not detectives, Mr. Blackpoole,” Maggie told the man.  “I don’t think they’ll want us to interfere with their investigation.”

“They want art experts there. I’m sending the two of you since you saw the paintings before they were taken.  Let the police handle the murder.  I will not pay out twenty million dollars to his widow. Do you understand?”

Nate thought he was being a bit harsh, but whatever the company wanted was what he’d try to give them.  He did think it was a bit strange though that Ian would send two people from his office to investigate. He’d never heard of that before.

“Coordinate with the local police.  They’ll be expecting you.  Be on the first plane out.”

That was easier said than done since that flight was booked solid.  They did finally make it out of Los Angeles the next afternoon with the quickest connections they could arrange.  By the time they arrived in Italy, it seemed like they’d been traveling for days.

“How do you do this?”

“Travel like this?  You get used to it.  Let’s find the hotel then the local police station. I have the phone number.”

As Nate splashed water on his face in his room, he figured that the police wouldn’t give him much information.  Finding that many paintings though would take time.  Someone had to have a place to stash them.  They might have been seen by a witness. 

The meeting with the local police turned out to be a bust, with no new information other than he was strangled.  Maggie thought that was ironic since he had that forgery wrapped around his neck too.

“Strangled with a painting? That would be a first,” she suggested as they walked into Bering’s house, it still covered with police gathering evidence.

“The autopsy report said piano wire.”

“Geez. Sounds like mob kind of stuff.”

None of the mobsters Nate knew would kill someone that way. They’d just shoot them and dump the body in the harbor.  The fishes would take care of the rest.  He’d seen too much of that in his earlier years.  He certainly didn’t want to see it again.

“I dunno. The buyer of the painting was worried he or she would be found out?  The forger?”

“We need to find those paintings.”

“Or our heads will roll.”

Nate and Maggie spoke with the widow next, who didn’t really look all that distraught.  She wasn’t crying, wasn’t upset and it didn’t look like she’d be that way any time soon.

“He was such a good man.”

“I am very sorry for your loss.  We were sent by Ian Blackpoole.  He sends his condolences.  Such a shame for him to go so early.”

Nate almost said bullshit to Maggie, but he let her talk.  She was good at this.  Nate sucked at it.

“When it’s your time.  I just don’t understand what happened.  He was a little jittery the past week, but he had it all under control.”

“Jittery?  As in worried about something?”

The house looked to be the same, with all the paintings missing from the walls though.  What Nate just realized was they were all missing, even the ones that were not deemed insurance worthy.  He wondered if there was anything else missing.

“Business.  He was always busy with something, some new venture.  I stayed out of all of that.”

“Mrs. Bering, when we were here last, the place seemed to be filled with art. Now, there’s nothing on the walls. Can you tell me what you can about that?”

“Oh, we were going to paint.  They all were supposed to be stacked in one room. That’s how I noticed the whole collection had disappeared.”

Now that explained some of what Nate was wondering. 

“When was the last time you went into that room, where the paintings were stored?”

“A week ago.  They had to move things around the house to paint. You know how it goes.”

Nate never had painted a day in his life and wasn’t about to start.  What was weird though was the fact all the furniture was still in place on the first floor of the house.

“Which rooms were being painted, if you mind my asking?”

“The whole house.  They had just finished the kitchen and were going to start on the guest wing of the house.”

Nate only had four rooms to his apartment:  kitchen, living room, bathroom and bedroom.  All small, all probably drab compared to this. Wings of houses? 

“And the paintings were stored when?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“Right after we left?”

“Just about.  Why?”

“Do you mind if we look around for a bit?”

“Oh, no.  Please go ahead.  I know you think I’m cold.”

Maggie’s head turned at her announcement.

“You have to understand.  My husband was a gentle soul, wouldn’t hurt a flea.  But I didn’t love him.  I’m sorry. I’m revealing too much.”

Nate glanced at Maggie, hoping that she’d have some answers once they were alone.

“He was lovely to me.  But it was a marriage of convenience. We were close, but not that close.  I can’t inherit anything from him but what the pre-nup says.  It’s his children that get the payout.  Now, if you excuse me, I have some packing to do.”

“Packing?” Maggie asked.

“Yes.  It seems that the children do not want their step-mother here anymore.  But please, look around. I do hope you find what you’re looking for.”

Mrs. Bering exited as quietly as she had entered.

“Does she have any empathy in her body?” Maggie asked.

“I think she knew what the deal was.  Think small, look pretty. I’m sure she’ll be paid handsomely for her work.”

“How can people live that way?”

“When you’re rich, you can do anything you want.”

“Come on.  Let’s find those paintings.  This place is giving me the creeps.”

Maggie was right.  The house was a bit creepy now that she mentioned it.  Walking around, they got the lay of the land, figured out what rooms had been painted, which wasn’t much. As Nate walked into the guest wing, he noticed a few things out of place though.  Windows were unlocked. Sure, painters did that all the time.  But these windows had not been painted, nor were the rooms even touched yet.  As he poked around, he threw open closets, pushed on doors, basically attempted to see if there were any secret passages, anything hidden that the police had missed.

“Nate?” Maggie called from the bathroom.

“Yeah, coming.”

Maggie stood in the middle of the bathroom.

“What’s wrong with this picture?”

“I don’t know. What’s wrong with this picture?”

“The tile. It’s uneven. See where it’s been chipped away.  I thought they were just going to paint.”

“Maybe this is why they needed to paint.”

“Help me move the tub.”

Nate looked at her strangely, but wondered if she was on to something.

“It’s not bolted to the floor, not fixed to the floor at all.”

“Exactly.  It should be.”

Nate put his back into it, but it moved once he did.  There was a hole almost as large as the tub, which led down into some kind of space underneath the house.

“Ok, now that’s weird.”

“Maggie, many houses have crawl spaces.”

“The tile has been chipped away, Nate.  That’s not how you tile a bathroom.  It should have been underneath the tub, or at least done correctly.  See the debris?  And the supports are missing.”

He didn’t know Maggie knew about construction.  The things he was learning about her.  She was quite the fascinating woman.

“I think it’s the supports that are the clue. You can’t put a tub here without them.  Too heavy once it’s filled with water.”

“I don’t have a flashlight.”

Nate grabbed a work light from the other room where it looked like someone had tried to start painting.  Plugging it in, he shined the light down into the hole.  Someone had been down there, he could tell. 

“We need to figure out where this leads.”

“Do you think this is how the paintings were taken out?”

It had to be, Nate thought.  Whoever had done this could have been taking paintings out for weeks, right after the two of them had left Italy.  It wasn’t like anyone was counting paintings.

“Kitchen. There has to be a flashlight in the kitchen.”

Nate gave the work light back to Maggie and went to the kitchen in search of a flashlight.

“Find any clues?” Mrs. Bering asked as Nate walked into the kitchen.

“You don’t happen to have a flashlight, do you?”

“Oh. Most certainly.”

As she handed him the light, she brushed her hand across his, looking up at him and smiling.

“I have to get back.”

“I understand,” she said as she came closer.  “Work takes priority, as always.  After, why don’t you join me for a drink?”

Great, she was hitting on him, with Maggie not far away.  Sure, clients sometimes hit on him.  He always politely refused. Mixing business and pleasure was not smart.

“I’m really busy, Mrs. Bering.”

“Doesn’t mean that you can’t have a spot of fun,” she told him as she ran a hand up his arm.

“All about the work. Besides, I’m not that interesting.”

Her fingers ran into his hair, fingers twirling at the curls in the back.  His shiver at her actions spurred her on, coming closer to him so that they were touching now.

“Nate, darling.  Where are you?  Hurry up. Remember we have that dinner reservation,” Maggie called from the next room.

Mrs. Bering pulled away exactly at the time Maggie walked into the room.  He had no idea what Maggie was talking about, but decided it might be smart to play along with her for the moment.

“There you are.”

Maggie smiled at him, showing her dimples as she did. 

“Terribly sorry, Mr. Ford.  I’ll let you get to it,” Mrs. Bering said as she quickly exited the kitchen.

Nate looked between Maggie and the empty doorway, frowning as he did.

“Coming on to you?”

“Yeah, apparently. Wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

“Let’s go, loverboy.  Let’s do our thing so we can get the hell out of here.”

“Loverboy? Why would she do that?”

“Nate, are you that dense?”

He guessed that he was since Maggie seemed to know what she was talking about.

“She was lonely and having a handsome stranger in her home probably made her a bit more forward.”

“Handsome stranger? Oh, me.  Huh.”

“Nate, hole.  Turn on the flashlight.”

As they made their way back to the bathroom, Nate flicked on the light and shined it down the hole. It did look like someone had been down there recently.

“Glad I wore sensible shoes.”

Helping Maggie down, Nate crawled after her, handing her the light as he did.  They had to crouch, but made it to a place where they could actually stand up.

“I didn’t see any access to this part of the basement.”

“Probably behind some door we didn’t see.”

Maggie was right. They’d have to search better and figure out a more convenient way down.  Up ahead, Nate could see another room possibly.  Walls had been constructed and didn’t look like to be part of the original house.

“Not obviously built in the 1800s like the rest of the house was.”

As Maggie opened the door in front of him, she gasped as she did.

“Not what I expected at all.”

Inside the room housed all sorts of devices, some of which Nate had no idea what they were for.  Many of which he knew exactly what they were for, his Catholic education be damned. 

“Is this what I think this is?” he asked Maggie.

“More than just a bit kinky, if you ask me.”

“Someone’s been very naughty.”

Maggie lightly tapped him on the arm.  “Nate.”

“Just not what I expected.  I wonder if Mrs. Bering knows about this.”

“If she does, then you just dodged a bullet.”

“Or a spanking.”

“Means there has to be a way upstairs to this.”

“But why the hole?”

“Weird. Notice that this room is soundproofed too.  The door is solid. The things that rich people do.”

As they looked around, Nate noticed a few more odd things.  One, there was a camera feed set up on the wall.  Two, there were no windows. Three, if they were somehow trapped down here, it would be challenging to get out.  Just then, the door slammed shut.

“Remember the comment about the door being solid?” Nate told Maggie.

“Dammit. What do we do?”

Nate banged and pushed until his arms tired.  He looked around for anything that might give him leverage against the door to pop it open. Nothing came to mind.

“Ok, why on earth would anyone lock us in here?”

“She’s jealous of you?  We got too close to something important? Both?”

“I’d go with both at this point.  I want to sit down, but eww, I just don’t know what to sit on that I won’t catch anything.”

Nate laughed for a second. “This is just unreal.”

Both searched the whole room, actually finding some clean towels to sit down on the sofa at the side of the room.  Nate kept up his search, hoping that they could figure out how to escape.  Only Mrs. Bering knew they were still in the house.  Who would come looking for them? No one.  It would take days for any coworker to realize they were missing.

“Crackers and water.”

“Huh?”

“There’s crackers and water down here also.  At least we won’t starve.”

“And here I thought we had dinner reservations tonight?” he bit back sarcastically.

“In your dreams. On our salaries?”

Nate flopped down beside her, eyeing the stuff in the room warily.

“I don’t even know what some of this stuff does.”

“Neither do I. I’d be worried if you did.”

“Same here.”

“You know, this is just more than someone being kinky.  This could be some hardcore stuff.”

“So she might be some kind of dominatrix.  People do some crazy shit.”

“I’ll take plain vanilla over crazy shit any day,” Maggie responded.

“So you’re really that plain vanilla.  I would have thought with …”

“Don’t finish that thought, Nate.  I like you, I really do.  You’re just too uptight.”

“Uptight?”

So that was her problem.  She thought he was too uptight? Sure, he could be serious, workaholic.  Wasn’t she serious too? 

“Yes, uptight.  You’re married to your work.  When’s the last time you had fun?”

“Fun?  Gotta have a girlfriend to actually go out and have fun.  Jim and a couple of buddies from work always watch the games on Sunday.  That’s fun.  I go out for drinks sometimes.  I’m away a lot, so there’s that.”

“Vacation? What do you do in your downtime other than drink with Sterling?”

“I haven’t had a vacation in years.  Or have I ever had a vacation?  I should ask Ian for time.  Not that he’d give it to me.”

“You should. Relax I mean.”

“I can think of better ways to spend my time.  Coffee?”

“Again?  You sure are persistent.”

“I am when I see something that intrigues me.”

“I’m intriguing?”

“Most definitely.”

“See, you can flirt when you want.  Flash those gorgeous eyes of yours and the ladies flock to you.”

“Maggie, we really should have dinner sometime.”

“I agree.  But until we get out of here, plans are on hold.”

“Exactly.”

Maggie had moved closer to him, kept looking into his eyes like he was supposed to do something.  Maybe he was denser than he thought he was.  She sure thought he was.

“Definitely way too dense,” Maggie said as she closed the rest of the distance between them, lightly touching her lips to his.

She tasted like strawberries, Nate thought as he increased the pressure just slightly.  Turning his head, he felt her moan before he heard it. She actually liked what he was doing, so he did more of it. Her hands ended up at the back of his head, pulling him in more, making him gasp just enough so that when his mouth opened just slightly, she dove in and deepened the kiss. Now it was his turn to moan.

After a few minutes, Maggie slowly pulled away, smiling as she did.

“That was, um…”

“If you say nice, I may have to punch you,” Maggie sighed out as she looked at him.

“Definitely not nice,” he said as he pushed into her again, this time touching her face and her neck as he did.

“Must be the room,” she said as his mouth traveled to her neck, nipping her skin as he did.

“Hope not.”

“As I said, plain vanilla.”

“Does plain vanilla do this?” he responded as he swept his tongue in her mouth.

The feel of her now directly against him was intoxicating. He hadn’t realized how small she was until he was actually holding her in his arms, kissing her like it was their last one on earth. It wasn’t, he knew that.  They’d get out of there one way or another. 

Maggie started to climb into his lap, but Nate stopped her with a hand.

“We have to get out of here first.”

“Ruined my plans to tie you up and have my way with you.”

“Maybe next time.”

Nate sat breathing in and out, trying to figure out how to calm his reaction and get them the hell out of there. 

“Screwdriver.”

“Nate, are you talking about one of those things, because there’s no way I’m touching one of them with a ten foot pole.”

“No, if we could find a screwdriver, maybe I could figure out how to take off the bolts on the door? Could be worth a shot.”

Both started looking frantically for a screwdriver.  As Nate looked around, he saw that a red light on the camera in the corner.

“Uh, Maggie.  We need to hurry.”

“Why?”

“I think we’re being watched.”

Instead of a screwdriver, Nate found some kind of instrument that looked like a chisel.  He really didn’t want to know what it was used for, but he started pounding it under the head of the bolt.  Making progress, he put even more effort into it, having it fly free at the last bang.  It didn’t take much longer to free the other two. The door awkwardly slid off, breaking the lock as it did, opening it once and for all.

They were greeted by Mrs. Bering, gun in hand.

“Oh dear.  I seemed to have caught two burglars.  What shall I do?”

Nate and Maggie put their hands up, knowing that she meant to shoot them if they didn’t cooperate.

“There’s no way you’ll get away with this.”

“Oh, I most certainly will.”

As she led them up the stairs that they hadn’t found on their first go around, they ended up in the study of Mr. Bering, the room where they’d met him the first time.

At the table was the butler, the one who had let them into the house the day they’d first met Bering.

“The butler did it?” Maggie said, rolling her eyes.

“Isn’t that ironic?”

“What?  Jesus, Margie, what in hell are you doing?”

“Stopping these two meddling insurance agents.”

The man pushed them to sit down while he took the gun from Margie.  Nate mouthed Margie to Maggie, confused as to why someone would name their kid that in the first place.

“You’ll have to forgive my compatriot.  She gets a little antsy. We were supposed to wait until you left.  Apparently you found the hiding place.”

“Hiding place? Oh yeah.  Hiding the artwork?  Not a great move.”

Nate now knew that somewhere in the basement was a place where all the artwork could be stored.  If it was still there, that is.

“It would have worked, if damn Bering hadn’t come home.”

“Catch you in that torture chamber?” Maggie quipped.

“That thing? He took his girlfriends and boyfriends down there.  I had nothing to do with his, shall we say, proclivities for indecent things.”

“Didn’t see that coming,” Nate muttered to Maggie.

“Now I’m going to have to dispose of another one of your mistakes, Margie.”

Nate sighed his displeasure. This was not working out the way it should, that was for sure.  He usually didn’t encounter violent people in trying to retrieve artwork. Only one time had he questioned whether he was walking into something in which he couldn’t get out. Now was number two.  With Maggie sitting next to him, he’d rather not take too many chances.

By the way the butler was holding the gun though, Nate didn’t think the guy really knew how to fire the thing. In close quarters, it was even harder to hit a target.  If he could just get close enough, the gun could be out of his hands quickly. Nate didn’t have time to warn Maggie other than a look of I’m sorry as he went for the gun.  The guy was faster than Nate thought he was because the gun did go off, but luckily it was in the air as Nate wrestled it away from him.  Maggie took the opportunity to punch Margie Bering, bringing her down to the floor as she did.

Nate turned the gun on the butler, aiming it at him, making sure he had enough room to maneuver.  Maggie quickly called the authorities as Nate guarded the two criminals.  The police arrived faster than Nate thought they could.  Taken into custody, both sneered at him and Maggie as they were cuffed and led away.

“Well, that was bracing.  Let’s not do it again any time soon.”

“And here you thought I was plain vanilla, Maggie.”

“So you can fight.”

“So I got lucky.”

“Charming and lucky.  What else could a girl want?”

They did spend the time for dinner, if just to calm down and have a drink once everything was settled at Bering’s estate.  The paintings were in a room in the basement, hidden by boxes to make sure no one would know they were there. 

“I cannot believe how late it is.  We’ve been up almost twenty-four hours.”

“Locked in a dominatrix room, taken hostage and almost shot. All in a day’s work.”

Maggie laughed a little at that, raising her glass in a toast.

“To work.”

“To not being shot. And to your punch.”

“My hand hurts now.”

“Let me see.”

Nate took her hand gently into his and placed a kiss on it.

“Better?”

“Could be,” she smiled back, pulling him in for another kiss, tasting of wine and desire.

 

That last kiss was very much like that first kiss that they shared, so long ago.  Nate couldn’t even count the years his head was so jumbled.  They were going to die, it was an almost certainty, unless Eliot and Sterling figured out what was going on.  He’d missed the way her lips felt on his, the way her body clung to him in that elevator.  She was desperate, willing to give him this little bit, before they both died in the explosion. Only Parker’s entrance saved the day.

“So?” Maggie said as he took her back to her hotel room.

“No more kissing,” he could hear Parker say off in the distance.

“Definitely not Team Maggie now is she?”

“Just, nothing,” Nate waved to her.

“I know.”

“Know what?”

“You, Sophie.”

“That’s not happening, if ever.”

“Oh?”

Should he tell her that Sophie had bolted, leaving them down a man, replacing her with Tara, who while a good replacement, could never replace Sophie in his heart? How could he have fallen in love with two of the most beautiful women in the world and broken both their hearts? Only a bastard could have done that.

“Listen, we should talk.”

Maggie stood at her door, leaning against it, like she wanted to invite him in.  He knew she wouldn’t though.  The opportunity was there, to rekindle something he could see, taste.  It was just out of his reach.  There was too much between them.  If Sophie, if the team were not around, then possibly. But he wouldn’t be the man he was right at that moment if they hadn’t saved him from himself.

“Nate. I don’t think so.”

“Ok.”

“Remember what I said.  I do like you.”

“That’s a start.”

“Could be.”

The kiss she gave him was sweet, but very brief, not like the one in the elevator.  That one was heart stopping.  In another time, another place, it would have been magic.

“But it isn’t enough.”

“I’d just break your heart again. I don’t think I could live with myself if I did.”

The familiar hands wrapped around his neck told him that she didn’t want to break his heart either, but wanted him to be happy, if he knew what that exactly meant.  He could see her, the way she was almost twenty years before, the way she felt in his arms, the way she tasted.  Why did it have to end? Why’d he have to be an ass and mess it all up?

Coming up for air, she pushed him away slightly.

“I have to go now.”

“Yeah.”

“Thanks, for the saving.”

“Thanks to you too.”

“What for Nate?”

“For loving me.  And Sam. Thank you for Sam.”

The tears in her eyes flowed silently as he walked away.  He didn’t know what she needed now, she was so far away from him.  But for that split second, when they were in that elevator, he was transported back to that basement in Italy, reborn to that man who was full of life, starting out and finding love with a good woman.


End file.
